it’s day seven
having been stung by my out-of-shapeness several weekends ago (thanks paul.), i bought new shoes and started running again. days 1-4 were pretty good. run a couple miles a day, feel great, lots of energy, thirsty as all get out.
day 5, uh-oh. started out sore, and didn’t loosen up. day 6, same. today is day 7. i started out and didn’t feel good. i was running with a gal who admitted she hasn’t been out since december, so i was going easy on her…i thought.
about a half mile in, she’s gasping for air. she says ‘go ahead’, so off i trot at ‘my pace’. i died at 1 1/2…but i also hate running by myself when i’m supposed to be running with someone, so i went back for her to encourage her in. (YAY! extra mileage)
i felt like my old track coach, but i was clapping, and encouraging, and all that so she’d finish–and she kicked! i was surprised–it’s like the races i have with matthew.
['ya wanna race me, mom?'
'ohk-----' 'GO!' (and he's already running by the time he hollers 'GO!' like a 50-foot headstart in a 70-foot race.) i'm still saying '...kaaayyyyy...' and realize he already started. catch up, pass him, he grabs my arm and hangs on. dang! he don't cheat fair! ]
so it was with running buddy #2. but she finished strong. her lungs gave out at the office door, and she prolly will never run with me again. i was just trying to encourage her…maybe push a little.
i will have my comeuppance friday. running buddy #3 has been training at 4 miles regularly. i think she trains at a 8:30/mile pace. i’m gonna die.
rb#2 says “i don’t get why you like running.”
i say “it’s because……….”